


You Want to WHAT on Me??

by thesunisloud



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil has weird fetishes, Cecil is Inhuman, Dialogue, Humor, M/M, cecilos - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesunisloud/pseuds/thesunisloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil puts forth some of his deepest desires and learns some of Carlos’ limits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Want to WHAT on Me??

**Author's Note:**

> This dialogue between Carlos and Cecil begins with Carlos.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~

“You want to  _what_  on me?”

“There isn’t really an English translation.”

“But what did you just say?”

“Spit. It’s not really spit. I mean, when I translate it like that it’s pretty gross, but what I want to do to you isn’t.”

“Uh, can I, uh, examine this not-quite-spit?”

“I can only do it when I’m in the mood.”

“Uh-huh…”

“And you’re lying under me.”

“Yeah…”

“Tied up…”

“Hmm…”

“And wearing, uhhhhh, a penis cage?”

“A WHAT??”

“There’s not really a translation for that either. Full bred members of my species don’t exactly have a penis or a concept of ‘cages.’”

“Can I at least look at this… ‘penis cage’… before we get down to it?”

“Uh, no. That only comes out of my body when the mood is right, too.”

“WHAT?”

“It’s part of my reproductive system. I’ve been keeping it at bay, but it would be really great if we could start using it for sex. I think we’re at that point in our relationship now. I trust you not to, how you sayyyyyy, run away screaming?”

“You had to translate that?”

“Well I’m thinking of when my brethren do it. A closer translation would be ‘swim away suddenly while squirting a billow of ink in my face.’”

“Okay, hey, I thought of something. Is this ‘spit’ like ink?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Is it, uhh, sentient?”

“Why yes, it is! How did you know?”

“Lucky guess. Does it… hurt?”

“Only if you tick it off.”

“Um.”

“Look, I’m gonna give you some flowers before we start. When it splatters on you, start romancing it.”

“Oh, by all the moons of Jupiter. What exactly am I supposed to say?”

“You can’t overthink this sort of thing, Carlos. Just do whatever comes naturally. Your instincts know what to do.”

“I think my instincts want to squirt ink in your face and swim suddenly away.”

“Oh!”

“Cecil— aw, Cecil, come back. I didn’t— are you crying?”

“I moved too quickly. I thought you were ready. Alas, I have scared you away! Oh, stupid, stupid Cecil…”

“No, Cecil. No. I love you. All of you. And that includes your culture and your unique and beautiful biology. I just… think we should take this spitting-sentient-sexual-fluids-and-trapping-my-penis-in-a-cage-of-monster-junk thing slowly…”

“Okay.”

“Here. Stop sniffling.”

“Slowly?”

“Yeah.”

“Here.”

“What… what are you taking out of your pants?”

“It’s a card from my penis cage.”

“Aww. It’s shaped like a little heart!”

“Hang on… let me rummage around in here a little more…”

“Frak, Cecil, you’re in up to your elbow!”

“Ah! And this.”

“It’s… a tiny glass of wine?”

“Yes.”

“Is it really wine?”

“Yes.”

“No. Really. What is that. I am not drinking that.”

“Hic— huhh—”

“No, don’t cry. I’m delighted to be romancing your, uh, nether regions! I just meant I need to know what I’m drinking, you know? It’s a reasonable policy. I’ll be delighted to imbibe of the fluids from your loins if you just tell me the, uh, alcohol content.”

“It’s a 1998 Pinot Noir. Good nose, notes of flowers and citrus, dry finish. 12.5 percent.”

“Ah. Indeed it is. Your penis cage has excellent taste.”

“Hmmph. The wine’s from my sentient sexual fluids. But that’s okay, we understand you’re new to this and trying your best. We forgive you.”

“Thank you, sentient sexual fluids. You are most, uh, erudite.”

“Oh! I’m blushing! Here, let me give you a refill.”

“Um. Thank you.”

“Now, uh… I’m not upset, because you don’t know what to do, but hopefully you have the urge to, uhh, reciprocate?”

“With what? Uh, I’d appreciate your guidance. I really want to hit it off with your nether regions. How do I get this right?”

“Start with some flowery poetry. Write it on… oh… this won’t be too uncomfortable to stuff up there. And a small gift. Preferably VERY small. And smooth.”

“Okay. Ahhh… hmmm… oh, that meter’s awkward… uhuh… what rhymes with ‘depths’… ahhh… yeah that’s good… okay, here you go.”

“Thanks, I’ll stuff that in there.”

“All the way up to your elbow again, Cecil? Really?”

“Hurrr…”

“No! No! Don’t cry! I accept you! You are beautiful and amazing and I am the luckiest man alive!”

“Carlos.”

“Yes?”

“I’m JOKING.”

“What, about the poetry?”

“NO. I don’t have sentient sexual fluids or a penis cage!”

“You don’t?”

“No! Seriously, Carlos? I can’t believe you wrote a love note to my imaginary genitals.”

“What— but— but I was starting to fall in love.”

“Oh. Oh, Carlos, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”

“How can you be so cruel? To play with my heart like that?”

“I— oh, Carlos—”

“Ha! I was joking too. Wow, that’s a relief. You really had me going.”

“I can’t believe you fell for that. I’m pulling wine out of my genitals? Really?”

“How DID you do that?”

“Sleight of hand. I mean come on, reaching in up to my elbow??”

"You were just so convincing!”

“But yeah. That was all made up. All I want to do is spit on you. Actual, literal spit. Like spit on your face.”

“What?! No! That’s disgusting!”

“Wait— but you were going to agree to—”

"You’re not spitting on me, Cecil. That’s final."

THE END!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of writing out the love poems, but the beauty of this piece is that it leaves so much to the imagination.  
> Please feel free to submit your versions of the love poems in the comments!


End file.
